((Gawdly))

The chorus sang the dark passages, invoking the spirits of the night. Forty young voices rang out, chanting the spell that would bring their Saviour back to the world of the real. The hope of the children was strong, the faith in their young souls commanding the notice of those that dwell in the shadows. They were naked, and covered in mystical symbols, written in blood. The blood was not their own.

In the middle of the great chamber, a man was staked to the floor, alive and crying in fear. Weldon Partslomber had been on his way to work when he saw a small girl weeping by the side of the road. He stooped to ask what was wrong, and the next thing he knew, he woke up here, tied securely to the floor. All the children around him had long, sharp daggers in their hands. Weldon had wet himself.

Now the chanting was getting louder, and the children pressed in close to the man. From the darkness came a cloaked form, taller than the children, who approached Weldon slowly. He was chanting, and the children began to join in. They all raised their blades as one, and stepped towards the bound man. Weldon died quickly and painfully, razor sharp blades cutting him and gutting him like a fish . The song of the children sent him to the afterworld.

"Mew-Two, Mew-Two, Mew-Two..."